Ember
by Aireon Maris
Summary: Buffy makes a choice in order to save Spike. Fifth in the Spike and Buffy in Europe series.


Ember

There was a small amount of comfort in the familiarity. A twisted feeling of normalcy. Buffy squinted through the haze of a concussion at the snarling, inhuman faces around her and tried to remember the last time she had been surrounded by vampires. Not since her twenty-fifth birthday.

And then the moment of comfort was gone, replaced by the sheer terror of reality. She was surrounded by blood-sucking demons, and completely at their mercy.

"Buffy!" Spike's frantic voice pierced her skull like an iron nail, pounding in her head and heart. "Buffy!"

"Oh, don't worry, amico," the lead vampire, Ampelio, hissed. "She's alive. For now. You will have the pleasure of watching her die."

"You let her go, you bastards, or I swear I'll—aaargh!"

Buffy flinched at the cry of pain, unable to turn her head to see what Ampelio was doing to Spike.

"You'll what? Beat me to death with your soul? How is that going for you, by the way? Pah. You are pathetic. What use is a conscience to one such as us?"

Spike screamed again, and tears sprang to Buffy's eyes as she imagined what sort of pain would rip that inhuman sound from his throat. She remembered what she had told him the night before, that she was happy being normal, and cursed her utter stupidity. Being normal wasn't going to keep him from dying.

And they were going to kill him. She knew in her heart that neither of them were getting out of this alive.

Buffy saw movement out of the corner of one blurry eye. Slim dark body, masses of black hair, and a white streak framing huge, empty eyes.

The First Slayer.

"Do you want it?" she asked in a singsong voice. "Do you want it back?"

"Want what?" Buffy asked, fighting against her swollen tongue and dry mouth.

"If you take it back you accept the burden. You make the sacrifice. One choice; one decision. There is no changing your mind." The First Slayer swayed in time to a rhythm only she could hear, unseen by the vampires tormenting Spike.

"What will you give up for love?" the First Slayer demanded, her eyes drilling into Buffy's soul. "What will you do to save him?"

Numbed lips moved slowly to form a reply. "Anything," she whispered. "Everything."

The First Slayer nodded slowly. "So be it."

Buffy was filled with agony, pain that seared along every nerve, as if each cell in her body was dying a tormented death over and over and over again. She screamed, and screamed, and screamed again, until her throat was bloody and her ears rang from the sound. Her head exploded with light, pure and blinding and terrible.

It lasted a lifetime; it was over in a second. She was on her feet before she could gather her shredded thoughts, ripping the bindings from her wrists. She grabbed the nearest vampire and flung him across the warehouse, her muscles surging with renewed strength.

It was almost as if Buffy was outside her body, a spectator watching as the reborn Slayer punched one of Ampelio's minions into a pile of half-rotted crates, observing as the Slayer yanked a broken splinter free and buried it in the vampire's heart. As the demon turned to ashes, the familiar rush of adrenaline sang through her veins.

"Oh, baby," she said, a grin stretching across her face. "Mama's back in town. And she's come to stay."

The battle didn't last much longer. Rather than face an enraged Slayer, the rest of the vampires beat a hasty retreat. Buffy rushed to Spike's side, her hands exploring the bruises and burns across his bare chest.

"Are you all right?" she asked breathlessly, feathering her fingers over his cheek. "Is it bad?"

Spike's eyes were blank with shock. "How did you—? What happened?"

"The First Slayer gave me my powers back," Buffy explained tersely, tearing at the ropes tying him to the wall. As he came free he nearly collapsed into her arms; she gently lowered him to the floor. Reaching up, he cupped her face in one hand.

"Why are you always coming to my rescue?" he asked, mildly exasperated.

"Hey, you came to mine, too, remember?" she said with a soft smile. "Are you going to be okay?"

He closed his eyes briefly. "In a few days, I suppose," he answered wearily. "I don't think I want to move just yet, though."

"Don't worry. Ampelio's probably not going to come back," Buffy said. "I think I scared him."

"You bloody scared me," Spike muttered. "Screaming like a thing possessed. Thought you were dying."

"So did I," Buffy admitted. Spike closed his eyes again, resting his head against her shoulder. Buffy let her head drop until her cheek was against his hair. They remained that way for a long time, with no sound except for Buffy's quiet breathing.

"I might be able to walk, now," Spike said. Buffy blinked.

"I was just getting comfortable," she complained.

"Oh. Well in that case…" Spike grinned lopsidedly.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Buffy pressed her mouth against Spike's, hard and demanding. It caught him off-guard, taking him a moment to respond but when he did…She never wanted it to end.

Buffy broke away first, her chest heaving with exertion. She saw the flash of disappointment in Spike's eyes. "We should get you out of here," she said, panting. "You need to get some rest. In a bed. Asleep."

"Right." Spike groaned as Buffy hauled him to his feet. "How I loathe being tortured," he muttered under his non-existent breath. He had to lean heavily against Buffy as she led them to the door, but she didn't falter.

It was a long walk back to their apartment. Buffy helped Spike into his bed and moved to leave but he caught her hand. "Stay, please," he asked. She sat down on the bed beside him.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised. She watched him drift to sleep, still clinging to her hand. She smiled and brushed her other hand over his forehead. He was beautiful when he slept. She stretched out on top of the blanket next to him, not taking her eyes from his face so that it was the last thing she saw when she fell asleep.

The touch of cool lips on her cheek brought her to wakefulness. She murmured contentedly and tried to bury her face deeper into the pillow only to have her face meet a well-muscled shoulder. Her eyes flew open.

She was in bed.

With Spike.

_How did this happen?_

The events of the previous night crashed down on her and she sat up with a gasp. Spike propped himself up on his elbow and smiled at her. "Morning, luv. Sleep well?"

"I'm back," she stammered. "I mean, it's back. The Slayer-ness. I'm a Slayer again!"

"So I've been told," Spike replied. The wounds on his body were already fading, blending into his pale, pale skin. "How do you feel about that?"

"Confused," Buffy said, frowning. "I mean, I should be happy, right? But the First Slayer said something about a sacrifice, a burden. I have responsibilities again. Things I have to do. I have to kill Ampelio."

"No arguments from this end," Spike muttered.

"I have to go back," Buffy said more to herself. "I mean, Faith and Willow are leading the other Slayers. They'll need my help."

"Maybe not," Spike said. When she stared at him, he continued, "They've been doing all right without you, you know. And…well, maybe Europe needs a big bad Slayer to clean things up a bit. You know, dust all the Ampelios running around."

She hesitated over the idea. "That sounds too selfish," she said reluctantly. "Too much of what I want."

Spike took hold of her chin and turned her face towards him. "Luv, you've been fighting and bleeding and dying and saving the world for ten years. Don't you think that just once you deserve to be a bit selfish?"

She mused over his words for a long moment. "You really think so?" she asked.

"Absolutely, Pet," he said sincerely.

"Okay," Buffy said. "We'll stick around Europe for a while."

"Good choice." Spike stretched languidly and fell back against the pillow. "I don't know about you, but I don't feel like getting out of bed."

Buffy blushed furiously. "Um, about that, I—uh, didn't mean to fall asleep. It was just that you looked so peaceful a-and I didn't want to wake you, and—"

Spike cut her off by laughing. "I think you're looking too much into that statement. All I was saying is that I might need a bit more resting til I feel a hundred percent."

"Oh." Buffy's blush didn't fade as she clambered out from under the blanket. "I'm going to get something to eat. Do you want anything? Toast, cold pizza, warm blood?"

"The latter, if you don't mind," Spike replied, drawing the blankets back up and closing his eyes. "Torture leaves you with an appetite, that's for sure. Thanks, luv."

Buffy smiled and left the bedroom, feeling more alive than she had in months. Yup, she was most definitely back.


End file.
